


Screaming

by JaggedCliffs



Series: None of This Was Supposed to Happen [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brief suicidal thoughts, Gen, Minor Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:11:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaggedCliffs/pseuds/JaggedCliffs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki hadn't killed Thor. Loki knows why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Screaming

Blue eyes, always so full, of love and laughter and happiness (but now when Loki saw them they now held no mirth, no joy. Just broken, helpless sadness and misplaced hope). What if they were empty? Lifeless? He could see them, open and staring at nothing, never again alighting upon Loki's face, the emotions in their depths making Loki want to scream, run, tear at his own skin and eyes until he no longer had to meet those eyes. (But Loki couldn't imagine Thor without that gaze.)

His face, wearing every emotion and thought so _proudly_ and _openly_ (because Thor had never felt the need to hide). What if it were blank? He had always express every feeling so _passionately_ , smiling with all the brightness of Asgard's sun when he was pleased, jaw clenched and face dark as one of his storms when he was angry. And of course whenever he looked at Loki, Loki could could read Thor's every emotion in the line of his lips, the set of his chin, the crease of his brow ( _SorrowFrustrationAngerHelplessness_ _ **Love**_ ). How many times had Loki told him that such honesty would only serve Thor ill against his enemies? (Enemies that were never supposed to be Loki.)

Those hands, firm and sure in battle, yet gentle as a lover's touch when he wished it (when they held Loki close, even as they were about to battle). What if they no longer had any strength? What if they were limp and pale, never to lift Mjolnir again?

His booming voice, like his thunder, but could be soft as a light mist of rain (and then his incessant brother brother BROTHER, as if repeating it would make it any more true, erase Loki's tainted blood and skin and eyes). What if he were silent?

His cape, darkened with blood, the only sign of injury the shade of red? Silver armour stained and broken?

Mjolnir as it was only a few days ago, falling to the ground when Thor no longer possessed the strength to hold it?

 

 

_His hands were bleeding, deep red crescents dug in the palm of his hands. There was blood under his fingernails. Slowly, he stretched his aching fingers, relishing the pinpricks of pain as the wounds stretched too._

 

 

Loki liked to envision defeating Thor, finally over coming his not-brother, proving himself the better _at last_.

He didn't like to think of the what came after.

Killing Thor was the goal. Loki hadn't been able to plan for afterwards. If he envisioned the realms without their golden protector, without the Mighty Thor, Loki felt his mind lurch, and a strange ache in his chest.

 

 

_It was dark out. Was it not still morning? But there was this planet's sole moon, and its unfamiliar stars blanketing the sky. He couldn't remember how the day had passed._

 

 

_Do you even know why?_ he had asked.

Loki knew _why_. He had always known why, he just pretended he didn't. He would tell himself he needed Thor alive for something else, some future plot. Or that _now_ was not the right time, because it would not be eloquent enough a revenge.

(But the god lies didn't lie half as well to himself as he could to everyone else.)

Loki knew _why_. But it hurt too much to go back. It was too late, he'd gone too far, and all Loki could do was move forward, destroying everything in his wake until someone (Thor, he wanted it to be _Thor_ ) stopped him.

Loki knew why. He just didn't want Thor to know as well. (Because that would defeat the purpose. If Thor knew why, Thor wouldn't help, he'd claim Loki could come back, like there was something to return to, as if he still had a home).

 

 

_There should be wall right in front of him. Except there was rubble at his feet, and his mouth tasted like magic, a spell meant to break. His hands still glowed with magic. A mirror down the hall was but a pile of shattered glass, its jagged shards reflecting little, yet in their twinkling he could still see dark hair and pale skin._

_The glass burst into dust_

 

 

_If I stopped?_ he had asked.

Loki didn't know. He didn't know what to do if Thor stopped caring. If Thor looked at his as if he were only another enemy to defeat, if there was no more hurt or love in Thor's eyes every time Loki met his gaze. If Thor _finally_ took Loki's advice, and no long called him brother.

Just like Thor, Thor's love was a constant. And no matter how many times Loki attempted to reject it, to _break_ it, he didn't know what to do if he succeeded. (Or if he succeeded in killing Thor.)

(This was why it would be so much _easier_ if Thor finally killed him. Even if he had to face the loathing in Thor's eyes as he struck the killing blow, Loki wouldn't have live with it for long.)

 

 

_The ground was hard and his legs were cramped. How long had been sitting against the wall, legs drawn up to his chest?_

 

 

_Kill me, Loki._ he had said.

And Loki had been too afraid to say, _But I don't know what to do without you_.


End file.
